


From One Moment to the Next

by DevilMadeMeDoIt



Category: The Walking Dead (TV)
Genre: Also features:, Anal Sex, And one purple nurple, Angst, Angst and Humor, Angst and Hurt/Comfort, Bottom Daryl Dixon, Crazy Rick Grimes, Cuddling & Snuggling, Daryl Dixon Smut, First Time, First Time Gay (Rick), Floor Sex, Friends to Lovers, Hurt/Comfort, M/M, Maybe possibly also, PWP, Rough Sex, Season 5ish, Spit As Lube, Stuff, Top Rick Grimes, Topping from the Bottom, Wall Sex, ambiguous timeline, and thangs, crazy rick grimes is my favorite rick grimes, daryl performs an excessive amount of emotional labor, i bet there'll be lube in alexandria dudes
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-10-28
Updated: 2017-10-28
Packaged: 2019-01-25 13:04:43
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,041
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12532056
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/DevilMadeMeDoIt/pseuds/DevilMadeMeDoIt
Summary: Rick can't stop. If he stops, the weight of everything he won't let himself feel will crush him and he'll be right back in that basement again waiting for phone calls from dead people he used to know.Daryl helps him figure out how to feel it.Also, porn. And manly, manly angst.You're welcome.





	From One Moment to the Next

**Author's Note:**

> There was no specific timeline for this intended; really, I just happen to be rewatching season 5 right now and season 5 Rick is my favorite Rick. If you need a timeline, I'd probably place this somewhere after Beth and Atlanta and Tyreese, after Rick loses hope about the Virginia development and before Alexandria.

The staccato _rap-rap-rap_ of Rick’s boot heels rang out like muffled gunshots on the battered, dusty floorboards from one end of the termite-ridden old shack to the other as he paced with near-military precision without ceasing. Back and forth and back again, he attempted to stem the tide of rage without focus, the creeping madness he knew was there threatening to overwhelm him the moment he let his guard down. The key, he figured, was to remain in constant motion, to avoid being dragged under again by the weight of the guilt, the grief, the self-loathing, the...everything. Everything he’d seen, done. _Had to do._ If he stopped moving...it would take him and he’d be gone. _Again._ He couldn’t let it happen. He had responsibilities, lives to protect.

The others though, had long since cleared out of the stifling, cramped space leaving him to it with muttered excuses about foraging for food or water or anything at all to have half a reason to get the goddamned hell away from him before he drove them mad too. Away from the tension that ratcheted his shoulders tighter with each turn and counter-turn, jaw clenching tight enough to make his back molars squeak against each other with a sickening _grind_. He could feel his heart already pounding harder, racing, galloping into high speed like a lashed horse despite his measured, careful steps.

He heard the barest creak of a floor board half a second before he felt the air moving behind him as if something was reaching out to grab at his shoulder. Without breaking stride, using the momentum of his intended turn at the far wall, and before he even had time to think, he had the thing spun and pinned to the rough pine wall with his knife poised to drive through temporal bone and dead gray matter.

An iron grip on his wrist stopped the serrated blade mere millimeters from Daryl’s skull.

“Easy, Rick. I got you, man.” The pack-a-day voice rumbled softly, calmly, as the knife was pulled from his slack fingers and tossed to the floor.

Breath he didn’t know he’d been holding exploded from his lungs as he lunged forward bodily, both hands hooked into claws in the lapels of the man’s leather vest. Rick shoved Daryl back against the wall, wanting to throttle the other man for being so reckless with his own life. _Jesus_. He out of all of them had to know how close to the edge Rick was at any moment, had to know better than to sneak up on him.

Daryl scoffed, reading it in his face, as usual, without the apparently unnecessary articulation. “You think you’da heard me _before_ I meant for you to?” The man’s crooked smirk lacked the boastfulness of his words, saving him. Barely.

Rick’s teeth ground together sharply, eyes closing tightly as he tried to swallow it all down again. “I coulda _killed_ you, you stupid son of a –“the words caught in his throat and forced his eyes open to look at the man before him.

Blue eyes stared back, as deep and endless as the Georgia sky at dawn.

“You gotta let yourself _feel_ it sometime, man. Whatever you need to do, do it, but get it out before it kills you.” Voice like velvet, wise words, Rick knew, but his mind was already shorting out, unable to comprehend the situation.

“What?” His own voice husked out of him like razors shredding, fingers still curled in fragrant leather, clutching now instead of shoving.

He almost convinced himself he’d imagined the way Daryl’s eyes dropped for a fraction of a millisecond to his mouth before they slitted to the side and the man shrugged, shoulders raising and lowering Rick’s fists with the movement. “Like I said, you do whatever you need to do. Kill the shit out of some nasty ass Walkers, maybe. Fighting’s good. Fucking’s better.” And there they were again, those blue eyes that Rick would swear never betrayed a thing the man didn’t intend to, hot, almost heavy as they dragged across his mouth and back up.

Rick suppressed a shiver as Daryl’s eyes locked on his. This...he never thought. Never _suspected_...

Before he knew it the heat in those eyes were shuttered away and the other man shrugged again almost nonchalantly. “Hell, guess you could even talk it out with someone like a couple’a goddamn gi—hmpf!”

His lips crushed hard and bruising against Daryl’s, desperately, with single-minded determination to bring back the fire he’d seen burning in the eyes of the man he trusted with his life. With the lives of his family, his children. Daryl grunted against his lips, hands coming up against his shoulders as if to shove him backward before, with a deep-throated sound of _something_ that could be confused with yearning, his mouth moved against Rick’s, lips parting with a rush of heat to deepen what was most definitely the wildest first kiss of any life Rick had ever known.

He used his body, hands still wrapped in the man’s vest, to press Daryl tighter against the wall with the force of their kiss. He tore his mouth away with a harsh gasp of air as he felt the shockingly hard press of Daryl’s length against his own.

Breath coming in ragged pants, he stared in almost mute confusion at the other man. Equally disheveled, mouth already deliciously swollen, Daryl froze against him, seemingly poised to either throw a punch or take one, for once unsure of Rick’s reaction.

When Rick didn’t move to shove himself away, when he in fact, rocked his hips forward almost without thought, tongue sliding out to taste the flavor of Daryl still on his mouth, the other man’s breath caught and the tension melted from his body in slow increments, eyes flicking back and forth over Rick’s face, searching.

Rick cleared his throat. “I never-“

“I know.” Daryl cut him off.

“But-“He started again.

“Rick. I know. You need to though.” The other man gruffed.

He swallowed tightly. “I...yes. Daryl, Christ yes.”

Daryl shifted against him, uncertain at first; then, almost cat-like, clothes rustling, belt buckles rasping and clinking off the other’s. Their eyes dropped together, drawn like magnets to the sound, to watch, as Daryl’s long, thick fingers reached out. First to stroke a fingertip against the smooth metal, and then, with a decisive move, to release leather from steel in a blur almost too quick to see. The gun belt dropped to the floorboards with a slap and clatter, and in the echoing seconds that followed there was a rush of hands on clothing, zippers, buttons torn, nails on heat scorched skin, ragged gasps mingling as their mouths crashed together desperately.

In one moment to the next, Rick had Daryl’s thighs gripped in his hands, hefting the other man up against the wall with a shattered groan, face buried in the sweaty crook of the man’s neck as he fought to fill his lungs with air.

A fist clenched in his hair and pulled his face free with a snarl for Daryl to take his mouth once more, more teeth than tongue, biting him, setting him on fire over and over again.

He could feel Daryl leaking steadily against his stomach and he rocked forward, stuttering to a stop as the damp head of his own cock skated against the nearly dry heat of the other man’s crease. Daryl moved against him and he bit off a curse before shifting his hips away as much as he thought he could bear.

Daryl’s eyes snapped to his, clearly well on their way to wrecked, but beginning to clear with a remarkable ease that Rick envied for his own. “Rick? What’s up?”

Rick’s throat worked as he fought not to move. To just _take._ “Ain’t never done this before, but even I know it ain’t supposed to be done dry. Need something.” He bit off a strained laugh. “All that time spent lookin’ for the _necessities_ on runs, guess we shoulda added one or two other things to the list.” He closed his eyes and huffed a disgruntled sigh, head falling forward with a _thunk_ against Daryl’s chest.

He felt the rumble of the other man’s exasperated grunt against his skin before his head was being yanked back _again_ , and really, there would need to be a discussion about hair pulling next ti—He lost his entire train of thought as he caught sight of Daryl sucking two, then three of his own fingers into his mouth, and Rick was trapped in the burning blue gaze meeting his. His legs wobbled alarmingly when those fingers trailed down to where their bodies had met, and circled, dipped inside almost teasingly and back out again. He watched open mouthed as Daryl’s hand lifted again to catch a mouthful of slick spit and had the briefest notion of utter confusion before he was taken in that hand, as hard as he’d ever been and stroked from root to tip in a filthy, wet slide of calloused palm on oversensitive flesh that almost had him embarrassing himself like a teenager.

Daryl tugged on his hair, gentler this time, to pull their mouths together with a muttered “ _Dumbass_ ”  and shifted himself downward, lined up the shot like the expert marksman he was, before Rick could utter a syllable of useless restraint, and rocked them together, enveloping Rick in unbelievable heat and exquisite pressure.

When his vision cleared of dancing white spots he noted immediately with growing concern the tightened features and gritted teeth of the man above him. He must have telegraphed somewhere in the half second before he moved his intent to pull back and slide free, because Daryl’s fist tightened painfully in his hair.

“Don’t fucking move you asshole.” The other man rasped between clenched teeth.

He stilled. Swallowed. Shifted his hold on suddenly slick, tense thighs uncertainly. “But—“

“Said don’t move. Asshole.” Daryl breathed deeply, exhaled, and Rick felt the chokingly tight grip of Daryl’s body relax ever so slightly. The tension in the other man’s face ease equally slowly as one blue eye cracked open to take him in. “Just need a minute, s’all.”

Rick fought the urge to give in to his desire to protect this man from pain. Any pain. Especially pain inflicted upon him by Rick himself. He chewed his lips, swallowing a groan as Daryl rolled his hips experimentally and by doing so took Rick’s cock even deeper than before. His heart began pounding, borne less of lust than of panic, and his breath quickened. Rick’s hands moved to grab onto Daryl’s hips, holding him flat to the wall to keep him still. “Daryl, I...” He closed his eyes as he faltered; prepared to move, let the other man down to the floor.

The hand in his hair slid to his face, raised it and held, until Rick opened his eyes. “Can’t hurt me Rick. _Wouldn’t never_ hurt me any kinda way, not really, and you know it. This ain’t bad, man. Ain’t let anyone do this, ain’t _wanted_ to let anyone, for a long time.” He stared at Rick, blue eyes wide open, full of everything Daryl wasn’t saying, until the meaning found its way like a bolt, straight to Rick’s heart. The other man’s thumb skimmed across his lips before he huffed, with a crooked smirk full of heat and challenge. “Just needed a minute. Like I said.”

Daryl’s hand lifted a second before striking once more like a copperhead, darting with deadly speed to snatch a fistful of Rick’s hair, causing him to bare his teeth in a snarl, bringing their faces together with barely a breath between their lips. “ _Minute’s over, Rick_.”

Taking Daryl entirely at his word, Rick surged forward, fingers clenching tightly in Daryl’s skin, slamming them both against the wall so hard it shuddered, bottoming out within the other man’s body with a shout that rang out in two distinct voices. He thrust with a strength he hadn’t know he had, reveling in the sounds it tore from Daryl’s throat with each dirty, rough, shoving push. And the man in his arms was far from passive, nails scraping against scalp, teeth against the bristled, sensitive flesh of Rick’s thundering pulse, each one urging the other further, harder, faster, more _Jesus, Rick fuck, more._

God how he felt. He couldn’t remember ever feeling as...fuck, as fucking _alive_ as he felt exactly here in this moment. Rick could feel things, in this moment; he’d believed once never to feel again. And in _that moment_ , one shuddering gasp to the next, one _Fuck, Daryl, please yes_ to the next, something broke in Rick. He felt a wild desperation, a _need_ , to see this man, _his man goddammit_ , fall apart right here before him. He needed it like air. With every last reserve of strength that remained in him he flattened Daryl against the wall, feeling splinters pierce the knuckles of his left hand even as he did so, freeing his right to _finally_ wrap his fingers around the other man’s cock, slick with need and so fucking hot against his palm. Daryl’s head struck wood as he threw it back and howled fingers tight against Rick’s stinging scalp, his other scrabbling against the wall for leverage to reciprocate against the brutal thrusting. Rick tightened his own fist around Daryl and stroked, using every twist and tug to drive the man closer and closer until with one last pull Daryl’s entire body clenched around his and shattered with a guttural scream.

One hand dripping with Daryl’s come, Rick lifted and pulled them from the wall, tumbling them both to the floor with a jarring impact of his knees on hardwood, and thrust himself back between Daryl’s thighs. Sliding home with a strangled curse, losing himself by inches, by miles inside the other man’s body he felt his climax rushing through his limbs like train cars flying off their tracks, like sparks exploding into flame in dry kindling. He gathered Daryl’s limbs around him, pressing their sweat slick skin together as tightly as he could and his thrusts became deep and sinuous, driving himself inside over and over again. He could feel sweat from his temples dripping like rain, like tears down his cheeks, and his hips stuttered, and still he moved. Couldn’t stop moving within the other man even if a herd of Walkers were to burst through the wall of the rickety shack intent on devouring them whole. He moved because if he stopped moving, it would be over, it would take him, and he would be lost forever.

Lips brushed against his ear, pressed as his face was into Daryl’s shoulder, choking back emotion like creek water, desperate to no let go. Not yet. “ _Rick. Let it go. Feel so good._ You’re _so good Rick._ ” Fingers stroking through his hair, brushing away wetness from his lashes, velvet tight heat squeezing him like a tandem heartbeat. “ _C’mon Rick. Let it go for me now.”_ With one final thrust, two, and a third Rick felt his body seize like he’d been electrocuted and let himself break apart into a million pieces with an almost anguished cry of release.

Daryl’s arms came around him tightly, holding Rick in place as he shattered, released _everything_ against the warm bend of his neck.

After long, quiet moments, filled only with the sounds of their breathing combined, slowly calming, evening, Daryl’s hand found his face once more. Swiping a thumb through the last of the bitter tears, the other man raised Rick’s face until their eyes found one another’s once again. The barest curve of Daryl’s bitten, kiss bruised mouth lifted in tiny smile Rick realized with a shock he’d seen from the other man maybe a handful of times, only ever directed at someone he –

Daryl rolled his eyes with a scoffing huff of a laugh. “Took you long enough. Dumbass.” And then his mouth was on Rick’s and whatever indignant defensive retort had been building behind his lips was lost to the feel of Daryl in his arms, warm and hard and perfect and _his_.

When they finally peeled apart with the unpleasant feeling of dried come stubbornly gluing them together, Rick slid free and moved to flop down at Daryl’s side, nearly missing the grunt of pain and grimace as the other man turned to gather their clothing for an improvised pillow. Rick’s brows drew down in concern and reached for Daryl, only to have his hand swatted away as the man lay down at his side and pulled him against his chest.

“Daryl-“An arm wrapped around his back, keeping him pinned, fingers squeezing reassuringly.

“Stop.” Daryl’s low growl vibrated through his chest. “You ain’t the only one who needed to let himself feel things. Wanted to feel it. Feel _you_ , Rick.” The quiet conviction, the acknowledgment of pain shared and released, stopped the breath in Rick’s chest, throat thickening with feelings he didn’t know yet how to express.

More silent moments passed and he realized that between the two of them, they didn’t really need the words. They both knew, now, how the other felt. Maybe, probably someday they would say the words. But for now, he could live with this. With the quiet. With the stillness. With letting go, together.

Out of nowhere a snort of sudden laughter ruffled the sweat damp hair at the top of his head. “You wasn’t exactly wrong, before. World mighta goddamn ended but I bet between the two’a us we could probably scrounge up somethin’ on a run that could pass for lube.” Another snort and then, in a _terrible_ imitation of Rick’s King County accent: “ _Guess we should add one or two thangs to the list._ ”

Rick, too comfortable to muster up any sort of defense of being mocked, satisfied himself with a vicious twisting of Daryl’s right nipple and the genuinely surprised squawk of outrage that echoed back from all four corners of the shack, and settled down with a soothing pat to the other man’s hip and closed his eyes for the first time in what felt like years.

**Author's Note:**

> *a conversation between the author and her muse at 1am*
> 
> :scene: the author has just finished watching many episodes of The Walking Dead, and it's now time to sleep. she's in bed, getting cozy when suddenly there's a commotion in the room.
> 
> MUSE: hey girl, hey. brought you a little something. ::finger guns:: don't say I never gotcha nothin'  
> ME: what the hell?! it's 1am asshole.  
> MUSE: aw c'mon, you said you wished you could find inspiration to write again.  
> ME: yeah. THREE YEARS AGO!  
> MUSE: it's porn man, what do you want from me?  
> ME: its not even my fandom!  
> MUSE: don't even. i see everything you see. hmmm do you remember googling "RICK GRIMES ASS" ohhh or what about "RICKYL FANAR--"  
> ME: alright alright, no need to bring my browser history into this.  
> MUSE: so, do you want it or not? never know when i'll be back, do you?  
> ME: jesus christ, MUSE it's 1am. I have to be at work in 7 hours.  
> MUSE: ..............  
> ME: fine. bring me my laptop.  
> MUSE: i'll put on the coffee. 
> 
> ::end scene::
> 
> And here we are folks. I haven't written and completed anything since like, summer of 2014 and that makes me sad af. So imagine my surprise when, while drifting off to sleep after an evening of zombies and betrayal and murder and dirty everything and too much staring at of Rick Grimes body (i don't think that's a thing? is it a thing?) and lusting bizarrely for his crazy ass dead eyed stare of gentle amusement and more Rickyl UST than is probably healthy, my muse drops this fully formed start to finish PWP in my head at 1am. I did what I had to do folks, and I think it's delicious. 
> 
> If you too enjoy crazy Rick Grimes and Rickyl UST and rough sex and feels and man tears, please drop me a kudo(s?) and/or a comment! I'd love to hear from you!   
> Also, don't tell my Destiel readers (do I have any left?) that I wrote for another fandom while shamefully leaving so many SPN fics unfinished. (I love you all!)


End file.
